Taking Cover
by Jougetsu
Summary: Who knew that stray magic and an anvil could bring people together?  DoumekixWatanuki


**Fandom:** Xxxholic

**Title: **Taking Cover

**Author: **Jougetsu

**30 Romances Theme(s):** #3 Anvil ; Banter, #5 Trickery; Magic, #11 Mission Impossible; limitation, and #18 Disheveled ; In the Rain ; Thunder

**Pairing:** DoumekixWatanuki

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **Characters owned by Clamp and their associated publishers.

**Summary:** Who knew that stray magic and an anvil could bring people together?

Notes: There's a mini-crossover from Cardcaptor Sakura and mention of TRC Sakura's predicament. No real spoilers.

xxxXXXxxx

_take cover - to seek concealment or protection _

"It's an anvil."

It was in fact, a prime example of an early nineteenth century Western style anvil to be precise.

"Yes."

There seemed to be no point in disputing the plain facts.

"It's an anvil!"

"I heard you the first time."

Doumeki had not only heard Watanuki, he had also taken note of the seemingly simple instructions Yuuko had given them earlier. On the other side of town, there was a condemned building noted for its weird lights, flying objects, and strange energies. According to Yuuko, the item in the center of the front room was the cause of the trouble and all they had to do was to bring it back to the shop. At the time, Doumeki was suspicious at the obvious lack of information, but had decided that questioning the witch further was not only a waste of time it would also very likely lead to Watanuki throwing a tantrum.

Like now.

"How does she expect us to carry an anvil home?! Tell me! It's impossible!"

Watanuki knew his luck was bad, but this was bordering ludicrous. What did he do to deserve being stuck in a condemned building with his archrival in the middle of the night trying to move an anvil? Even that smug bastard didn't have the strength to lift it. The only good thing was that other than being filthy, the building seemed quite ordinary and lacked the strange qualities Yuuko had mentioned. Maybe they caught it on a good night.

For an agonizing fifteen minutes, the two teens pushed, pulled, yanked, and shoved the anvil in vain. The only thing changed was that they were now sweaty, disheveled, and covered in dust. Doumeki motioned to take a break and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Watanuki did what Watanuki did best. That is to say he ranted and raved at the top of his lungs, tripped and flailed, and somehow construed the entire situation to be Doumeki's fault, as well as a sadistic plot by his employer.

"Your grandfather did magic, right? You should make it smaller or float! Do something!"

"Such as?"

"If I knew I would be doing it!"

"Lower your voice."

"Why can't you do anything useful? You just stand around looking like you're king of the world, unhelpful jerk! And you have the nerve to tell me to be quiet!"

"Shut up."

"What did you say you self-righteous son-of-a---?!"

Doumeki clapped a hand over the other boy's mouth, frowning.

"Shit," he swore under his breath. "Follow my lead, and don't bite."

Watanuki was all ready to defend his right to bite (as well as exercise that right), when the archer wrestled them to the floor, and replaced his hand with his mouth.

His first real kiss, an adult kiss, a lover's kiss, stolen by his hated classmate. He squirmed and wriggled, and damnit couldn't get out of Doumeki's embrace (octopus ancestry, he was sure of it!). When he opened his mouth to voice protest, the archer seemed to take that as an invitation for their tongues to get acquainted. Hot and wet and nothing at all what Watanuki imagined it would be like. He had imagined that kisses involved simply the meeting of lips that would be rather pleasant. No one ever told him that kissing unleashed an inferno, friction and heat everywhere their bodies touched.

And speaking of bodies, his body seemed to have sent his mind packing on an all expenses paid vacation to Never Never Land. He would certainly never in his right mind bring his hands up to pet Doumeki's damnably soft hair, or buck his hips to rub up against another boy's, or moan enthusiastically. And maybe just maybe Doumeki had taken leave of his senses as well. Why else would an uncaring jerk cradle his partner's head with his hands to keep it from hitting against the hard floor? He couldn't be sure how long that strange bliss lasted, but he was certain when it ended. That was right about the time the front door slammed open and flashlights temporarily blinded him.

"It's the police! Who's in here? Show yourselves!" boomed an officer's voice.

"Looks like it's just some stupid kids," his partner said. "You know you're not supposed to be hanging out places like this, boys."

With a nip to Watanuki's ear, Doumeki looked up from his impromptu make-out session. "Sorry officers," he grinned. "Guess we were a little too impatient, wouldn't you say Kimihiro?"

Watanuki was too choked on rage, and hormones to answer.

"Get lost before we have to take you to the box and do paperwork," the second officer jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. "And don't be making a habit of this, got it?"

"Of course officer," replied the taller teen, gracefully getting to his feet. He held out a hand to help steady his companion and in the most sultry voice Watanuki had ever heard asked "Shall we continue this at your place, Kimihiro?"

Watanuki didn't trust his voice at the moment, it was vacillating between a hearty agreement or a tirade so scathing it would flay skin. And so, face redder than he could ever recall, Watanuki took Doumeki's hand. He ignored the twin smirks of the officers, as his classmate led him out of the house and down the street. Two blocks later, his chest seemed ready to explode from rage and desire.

"What the HELL was that about?"

Watanuki felt just the littlest bit proud that he was able to keep just shy of shouting.

"I should think it was obvious."

And in scant seconds, his newfound vocal restraint was gone.

"HOW IS MOLESTATION OBVIOUS?!!"

"Keep your voice down," Doumeki warned. "Think about it: two teenagers in a condemned building in the middle of the night is highly suspicious. For all the police knew, we could have been vandals, thieves, or even drug dealers. Making-out was the most innocent thing we could have been found doing."

Tragically enough, it did make sense.

"I hate you so much."

Doumeki grunted in response and turned the corner, leading him behind the fence of an empty lot.

"We'll wait here for a while before returning to the house," the archer explained. "The cops, as well as the neighbors, will know something's up if we go back too early."

Watanuki knew it was futile to argue the point, so he sat in the lot _not _looking at Doumeki and lamented that his first real kiss (as well as a few more) were stolen by his rival and not the lovely Himawari. True, he couldn't really picture kissing Himawari. His fantasies about her never really left the hand-holding, sweet-talk, and lovelorn gazing stage. It seemed inexplicably dirty and wrong, to want her in the same way his body (not his mind!) had wanted Doumeki. Ached was more like it.

By the time he had planned out an appropriately scathing and indignant speech, Doumeki started walking briskly back towards the abandoned house. Frowning, Watanuki followed suit and decided that his rant could wait until they returned to Yuuko's. In minutes they were back in the house, but something was different-

"Where's the anvil?"

"I don't know."

"We need to find the damn anvil!"

"I know."

Frustrated, Watanuki threw his hands up in the air, where one promptly banged against something hard. And metal. And suspiciously shaped--

"I think we found the anvil."

For hovering above the unlucky seer's head, was the missing anvil.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious! I think it broke my knuckles!"

His partner frowned and before he knew it, Doumeki had bandaged up his right hand in a handkerchief.

"Try not to move it."

"Of course we have to move it, how else are we going to get it to Yuuko's?"

"I meant your hand."

"Oh."

"You said something about floating before, didn't you?"

"What? I guess so."

"Ask it something else."

"You want me to talk to an anvil."

"Yes."

"WHY?"

"It responded to your suggestion once, it might do it again."

With an overly dramatic sigh, Watanuki looked up at the floating anvil.

"Can you get down a bit lower, um, please?"

Slowly, the anvil lowered down to eye level.

"Can you make yourself smaller?"

Unfortunately, nothing happened, and he could swear that the thing actually seemed to droop a bit in apology.

"Floating and moving seem to be its limit," Doumeki said, taking a closer look at the anvil. "If we keep away from streetlights, it can probably follow us to the shop without a problem."

"Oh, and no one is going to notice an anvil floating down the street?" came the sarcastic response.

"It's past two in the morning, I doubt anyone is looking out the window. Besides, as long as we don't look at it, they probably wouldn't believe what they're seeing."

He hated how often that jerk was right. Really he did.

"Anvil, you're going to follow us to Yuuko's shop. Got it?"

It inched a bit closer to him.

"Let's go."

The temperature had definitely dropped from before. Watanuki felt chilled and was almost grateful that the pretentious jerk was walking close enough to feel his body heat. Which was indecently close, but his hand ached and he was too tired to care about anything other than getting to Yuuko's as quickly as possible. The journey back seemed to take twice as long since they were avoiding streetlights.

The seer could barely keep his eyes open. He might have kept on walking if Doumeki hadn't placed his hands on his shoulders.

"You can stop, we're here."

"I see you've found it," Yuuko drawled, from the doorway. She crooked a finger and the anvil floated lazily over to her. "Watanuki, if you would be so good as to place your hand on the anvil and repeat after me."

A little confused and more than a little sleepy, Watanuki nodded and complied.

"Under magical contract I command you, return to the guise in which you were meant to be, The Float!"

The anvil shimmered pink and it seemed as though an ethereal winged ball was detaching itself from the anvil. In the blink of an eye, the ball shimmered again before transforming into a pink and white card. Despite feeling drained, Watanuki moved to touch the card, when the witch shook her head. Maru and Moro appeared at her side to take both objects into the house.

"What was that?"

"The anvil is cursed, the only thing shielding you from that curse was the card's magic," she explained. "The card attached itself to the anvil to cause mischief."

"Why did you need Watanuki to remove the card?" Doumeki piped up suddenly.

He hadn't realized the archer was still behind him.

"Watanuki is, shall we say, related to the owner and the creator of the card. It would be very difficult to re-capture the card otherwise."

"Where's the owner?"

"It would appear she is indisposed, otherwise her cards would be in her keeping," Yuuko gave a sad smile. "The poor girl seems to be having a hard time of it, no matter which world she's in."

Something clicked in his brain, Kimihiro knew that there was something more complex going on that he wasn't understanding. Fatigue was fogging his mind, no doubt after a good night's sleep it would all make sense.

"Take him home and warm him up," the witch told Doumeki. "He's power-drained, keep him home from school if you have to."

He was going to protest, and very loudly, once he had the energy.

Which didn't seem to be coming.

Defeated, he slumped against the archer and mumbled into his shoulder, "Take me home, bastard. I need to sleep."

"As you wish."

"Don't get any funny ideas like before, just because I only have one futon"

"Of course not."

All right, maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world if Doumeki held him close under the covers. It would definitely keep him warm.

"What happened before was really wrong," he lectured in between yawns.

"..."

"Everyone knows that you need to start with hand-holding or something before you start shoving your tongue down other people's throats."

Doumeki stopped, hauled his companion over his shoulder and starting walking briskly towards Watanuki's apartment.

Watanuki let him.

He thought he could get used to being wanted.

END

xxxXXXxxx

**Quick Notes:**

This fic was rooted in the idea that Watanuki is somehow related or connected to Clow (and by extension Sakura and Syaoran). Since we haven't been given the exact nature of the connection, I left it purposefully ambiguous.

I'm blithely assuming that _by this time_ CCS Sakura is probably the same age as TRC Sakura, of course I could be completely wrong. I think it would be an interesting possibility if TRC Sakura's situation could affect other Sakuras, since they share the same soul. The feathers are not simply her memories, but components of her magical power. This could feasibly affect the magical power that CCS Sakura (and other Sakuras) possesses. And since we know when Sakura's magic is weak/changing, she loses control of the cards. Hence the renegade Float Card.


End file.
